


I love you for all seasons

by eisblumex



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Mileven, Missing Moments, One Shot, it gets a lil angsty at the end, rain kiss, tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28549644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eisblumex/pseuds/eisblumex
Summary: "(...) Because no matter how the seasons change, and the cycle of life repeats itself; no matter how life gets painful or unbearable; no matter the unbearable distance between them. Mike and El will never stop being there for each other."Or...Mike and El's relationship throughout the year.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	I love you for all seasons

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this shot for my best friend. It's her birthday today, and I wanted to write something special for her and her best babies. <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! x

_  
_

_Winter_

Winter is one of the most beloved seasons. Be it for the hot chocolate and whipped cream, the Christmas gifts, the cozy scarves and sweaters, the hands holding, the time spent with friends or school break—especially this one. Everything was better than the days of common routine. 

It was the perfect time to hide under the cozy duvet and wake up at the sound of snow falling down, that white, freezing cloak resting upon the roofs and the trees, giving it an ethereal monochromatic shade. Snow was magic, a gift from nature, and it could turn everything more beautiful than it already was. 

His eyes travel to his right, finding confirmation of that statement thanks to the girl standing by his side. 

She has her head angled to the side, half-face buried in her thick wool plaid scarf, eyes focused on the snow man she is building with dedication. Her flourishing chocolate short curls are tucked under the scarf, the roots covered by her white beanie; her tiny hands are covered by a pair of gloves twice her size, probably given by her father; a large maroon coat wraps her whole body, conferring her an adorable aura, the one of a child discovering the winter for the first time and wasn’t prepared for it.

“You’re staring at me,” El grins cheekily, not turning herself to him. “Why?”

Her words are so sudden that Mike finds himself blinking, finally freed by the entrancement she throws on him whenever he glances at her. Is it possible to act like the worst of lovesick fools whenever he is around her? 

It only takes another look at her dimples and that sneaky little grin of hers suppressed behind her scarf to give him the answer. That yes, _God_ , it’s very possible. 

“Because I find you absolutely adorable.” He says as he starts to help her again, scooping up some more snow from the ground and packing it on the head of the snowman with her. 

El furrows her brows, tipping her head to him. Such a simple term, yet she couldn’t quite get it. 

“Adorable?” she rolls the syllables slow, frowning a bit, confused by this new word. Has he ever called her like that before? 

Mike nods. “Adorable, yeah. Something or someone that is very cute that it makes you, huh, sort of squeal. Someone so pretty you might even cry.”

“Don’t cry, then,” she giggles. “Not worth it.”

He shakes his head, smiling as they draw the smile of the snowman together. “You are worth it, El.” 

She is worth all the smiles, all the tears, all the laughs. Whatever part of him or whatever feeling he has, it is there because of her. Sometimes, Mike is scared of it, you know; he is just thirteen and he still has the whole world to explore, a life to live, tons of experience to face (normal experiences that doesn’t involve inter-dimensional monsters), but when it comes to love, he feels like he has already learnt pretty much everything. 

He knows it all. The sense of losing the most important person in your life. The sense of falling in love for a sight of a stranger in a day of rain. The sense of belonging to a person, to someone that can understand you with a simple look or a word. El gives him meaning, as if his life is already complete. 

“Ouch—“ 

Her hiss breaks the stream of his thoughts.

“—El? You okay?” 

The alarm in his voice is anything new to her. Whenever she was in pain, he was there to assist her. He is born to protect her. 

She retracts her hand from the snowmen. “Mh, my fingers are frozen. They hurt if I try to move them.” 

The spite filling her voice is directed to the cold weather. This is not the first time snow hurts her. 

Unlike Mike, winter is not El’s one of her favorite seasons. It gives her a series of flashbacks she would like to forget. 

Snow itself is related to countless nights spent in frozen woods, where anything could have happened to her. Weeks of solitude spent in trying to heal a broken heart, as the only person she has ever wanted was so close yet so far away. Days of thinking about death and the reason behind her existence. 

All the questions she asked herself in the darkness of the woods came back to her mind as she stared at her fingers. Was she worth existing if she was meant to suffer that way? Why would she hide in the woods from the bad men if no one would have rescued her? Did anybody in her life ever truly wanted her for reasons beyond her powers?

She removes the glove, taking in her scarlet quivering fingertips with a dark glare. She despises it, she hates this sticky cold white stuff that is hurting her finger bones. Snow and snowmen are tolerable only if Mike is with her.

“I don’t know... They hurt a bit.” She scowls deeper, trying to move them. 

“Let me see.” He offers his hand. He is always so gentle and caring with her, sometimes she wonders if she deserves such kind treatment. “Can I?”

She nods, quietly. Even if he doesn’t know, she likes the fact he always asks her permission to touch her. He didn’t have to, of course, but seeing someone respecting her—what Mike called them again? Oh, yes, _boundaries_ , was what she liked the most about him. How caring he was of her, handling her like the frailest glass. 

Mike cups her hand, brushing his thumb on her palm in small circles. Her skin is pure ice; she has been playing with the snow way too much. 

“Your fingers hurt because of the cold. They’re not receiving enough blood, it’s normal. You just need to warm them up a bit,” he says with a tender smile, not letting her hand go from him. This very fact makes her heart skip a bit. 

El thinks about all the possibilities but washing her hands in hot water to give herself some kind of relief seems the only acceptable solution. She would walk back to the cabin again, as it is not really far from where they currently are, but Mike has other plans. 

She sees him pull her hand to his mouth, lips brushing on her open palm. His butterfly kisses are tiny and precise, alighting like a leaf falling from a tree branch on each of her fingertips, making her cheeks warm up as she feels them over her digits. The movement of his affection on her hand cancels any trace of pain and what is left is a wholesome tickling sensation she would love to feel everyday of her life. 

He places a final kiss in the back of her hand, finally looking at her in the eye. He swears he can see her face one hundred times redder even under her scarf. 

“Better now?” he smiles softly, tugging her tiny hand inside the glove again. 

She can hear his childish teasing in his voice, and only now El realizes that what Mike said was true. He was adorable, so cute much she could start to cry.

And she only understands that, maybe, snow wasn’t that bad anymore. 

“Better.”

_Spring_

  
  


When winter left town, a new season came by. The sky was greeted by sunshine and warm breezes, marking the prelude of summer. Blooming trees, the smell of cut fresh grass, a parade of wild flowers growing around the woods and an explosion of colors painted the life around her. Among all four seasons, spring had a special meaning for El—this day, in particular. 

When she spots Mike from the porch, she literally jumps on her toes. She bolts down the little stairs of the cabin, her small backpack bouncing on her back as she throws herself into his arms, not giving him the material time to properly hop off his bike. 

“El, you’re strangling me!” He manages to laugh, trying to balance himself as he holds onto her tight and she anchors her arms around his neck. 

“Happy birthday, Mike.” She smiles as she never did before, standing on her tiptoes so she can lock her eyes with his. “You’re fourteen now.”

Mike’s eyes soften in pure delight, a blush peppering his cheeks like blooming flowers. He can’t believe she remembered his birthday. How cute of her. Usually, the only ones who celebrate it with him are his friends and his mom and sisters. His father and the rest of his class forgot it, as every other year. 

“Fourteen, yes.” He wiggles his brows, managing to make her laugh. “Such a big number, am I right? I am almost a man.”

“A man! You got taller, too!” She agrees, holding his hand right away and starting to walk briskly with him. “Come with me.”

He gives her a puzzled look.

“Wait—uh, wait, where are we going? Shouldn’t we stay inside?” He jerks his thumb back at the cabin that they are living behind. 

She shakes her head, trotting next to him, fingers intertwined in his hand. “No. Hopper said “You can stay in the field today”. Because of your birthday.”

“Oh, wow, then it should be my birthday everyday.” He squeezes her hand softly. 

That was a nice change of plans. It was good spending time outdoors. Not that he complained about seeing her this way—absolutely not. No, Sir. In whatever circumstance, staying with El worked for him; he loved playing board games with her, watching TV, reading her books and comics, helping her with her writing exercise, listening to music... Everything was great and he couldn’t complain.

However, breathing fresh air and living outside was a godsend, and it could do nothing but good to her. Her claustrophobic life deserved a little bit more of light and freedom, and he was glad that his birthday could allow her that. Seeing her happy was the biggest gift of all. 

And speaking of gifts...

“I’ve got a present for you,” she shrugs her shoulders, making him understand that the gift was inside her backpack. She can barely contain her excitement as they stroll around the woods, their destination clear from both of them as their steps synchronize. 

On Valentine’s Day, they discovered a clearing hidden in the woods, a little green bubble where they could have done their picnic. It was not that far from the cabin either, so Hopper wouldn’t have worried too much. The old man was always there, threatening him daily with his shotgun or whatever he decided to haunt him. 

“El, you didn’t have to get me anything...” He sighs, pressing his lips together. It was already enough being there and being able to see her.

Truly, nothing else mattered. 

“But I had to!” El looks at him in shock, as if he didn’t know the basics of human relationships. “Girlfriends give boyfriends gifts and boyfriends give girlfriends gifts. It’s a rule. I saw it on television.”

He scoffs in amusement. Her and her soap operas. “Mmm... I think we’ve already discussed that what happens on television is not one hundred percent accurate.”

“But this one is. I called Nancy. She confirmed.”

He scrunches his nose in outrage. That traitor! 

“You called Nancy?” He tosses his head back, kicking out a groan. “Man, I can’t believe my own sister is conspiring against me.”

She lets out a soft chuckle beneath her lips, covering it with a hand. “You always think everybody conspires against you.”

“What? This is _so_ not true.”

She raises a brow. “It is.”

They argue for a bit, but it’s mostly him denying the evidence. Who is trying to fool, anyway? El is always right. 

“—Well, okay. Maybe I do,” Mike sighs, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. “Better being a little bit paranoid, though. So I can prevent bad stuff happening.”

“But where’s the fun in it? If you,” She thinks carefully about what she has to say. English was a complicated language. Easy to understand, but not to speak. “If you—are afraid of bad things happening every time, you won’t enjoy life anymore.”

Take it for what it is, but hearing her speak like this makes his stomach twists, realising a bundle of butterflies fluttering his stomach in an unashamed twirl. He found her when she could barely say a word, and now, here she is, in her hands, breathing, existing, very much alive and expressing herself like she was supposed to. 

Being a human being... His favorite one. 

“You’ve become wiser and wiser, y’know?” He smiles at her proudly, bouncing at her hip softly. 

She giggles. “You think so?”

“Sure. El the Wise.” He chuckles a bit. “Don’t tell Will I called you like this though, or he will give me shit.”

How could she, anyway? El has a sixth sense about people and she could tell that Will didn’t really like her for a reason she couldn’t even comprehend. 

Shouldn’t they be friends? Or bond for what happened to them? They experienced the subtle line dividing life from death, living horrors no possible humans could comprehend. Yet, he barely speaks to her and he doesn’t even bother to hide it. It hurt, just like it hurt not talking to Max—her pride wouldn’t let her. 

But she won’t tell this to Mike. He cares for Will, and she wouldn’t go against his friends. 

“I won’t tell.” She seals the promise like that. 

After a good minute of walk, they reach their favorite spot. This Saturday is springtime at its finest, rays of sun splashing around nature, conferring it a special aura. 

“Okay, gift time now.” She smiles toothless, putting her backpack off her shoulder, making sure to handle it with care. What was inside of it was frail.

“El, I already told you it’s not necessary—“ He can’t complete his whining until he sees her pulling out the famous present from the inside of her bag.

She is holding it with both hands, finger pads holding it as if it was the most precious jewel. And somehow, it really was to her. Mike’s eyes get wide as he realizes what is holding in her hands. 

“For you.” She flutters her eyelashes, a wild ray of sun splashing on her hazel irises in that right moment, making her eyes sweeter. He swears she can bewitch him in every way possible. 

He loves the feeling of having her so close, seeing her smile and being excited about normal things. Admiring her holding this flower crown in her hands, made it all by herself, it’s a memory that will forever be embedded in his mind. God, she is so pretty, but not just a common pretty; she is beautiful because she is happy. All the light of the sun filtering through the leaves of the branches converge where she is, as if she was the only source of light. 

“Do you like it?” El is all excited while chewing her bottom lip and almost shoving the crown to his face so he could look at it better. 

“ _Wow_.” Mike grins wider, studying it with an attentive sight. He is always interested in everything she does. “Wow, that’s—so cool. How and when did you learn?”

“Joyce. She taught me these weeks. I used,” she turns around and points at the wild flowers around her. Some daisies, forget-me-not and blue violets. “All of them. I collected them yesterday. Hopper doesn’t know.” 

The smile she always does when she goes against Hopper’s rules is one of the things Mike adores the most about her. 

“So do you—you really like it?” Her face is the definition of hope and he would never give her a displeasure. 

It was clear she worked hard on it, and it looked nice. The wires are intricate by the soft petals and leaves that she collected with dedication, and regardless of some empty spots she missed to decorate and the imprecision of some details, he can see her commitment. Sure, he is not a guy that he’s into flowers or plants, but El apparently was and that was what mattered. 

One thing he learnt was that El was girly. Even though she claimed herself as _bitchin’_ sometimes, she enjoyed drawing rainbows, pastel colors, flowers and stuff he would find lame most of the time—but not when it concerns her. 

“Of course,” Mike nods, and he couldn’t be any more sincere. “It’s beautiful. But I want you to wear it.”

“But it’s your gift—“ 

“My gift is seeing you in this. I know you are dying to wear it,” he laughs, stealing the flower crown from her hands. “Would you give me the honor?”

She nods, starting to fidget with her fingers as she sees him placing the crown on the top of her head, carefully, and with all of his attention focused on her. With his fingertips, he fixes her curls with a twirl of index, drowning in the softness of her hair and the curve of her eyelashes. Their hearts beat at the unison, creating a symphony that only they could hear. 

He would give her a compliment about how pretty she looks, but he doesn’t need words. Mike can only hold both of her hands and drive the space between them close. He bows his head down, smashing her a small kiss on her forehead. 

She grins back, studying his lovestruck face and his hair, today, a little bit wild and curly at the very ends of it. An idea comes to her mind. 

She picks a flower, a stark blue forget-me-not, and tugs it behind the shell of his ear with unbelievable delicacy. It contrasts with the candor of his skin and the darkness of his hair. He looks divine.

El caresses his cheek. “Happy birthday, Mike.”

_Summer_

The degrees have exponentially increased during June. All Indiana has been subject to summer fires and people losing their minds over the uncharacteristic heat. 

Sleeping in the cabin was like a Chinese torture—whatever that meant. She heard it on TV. El is fanning herself some air with a fan Hopper got for her, huffing hot hair and thinking about ice, polar bears, penguins, whatever that could bring her peace of mind. 

In this glazing afternoon, around four, she is not in the best mood to see Mike. Give it to the fact that it’s summer and she can’t even go to the pool with her boyfriend and friends like a normal person, or blame it on the fact that she has been stuck in these four walls for another semester… It was starting to get unbearable. 

She plops down the armchair of Hopper, waiting for Mike to appear through the cabin’s door. He was at the communal pool with the party for all day, but he promised her that he would have seen her right after it. 

See, Mike was so nice with her. He asked her if he could go or if she’d rather have spent the whole day with him—but how could she say no to him? He had all the rights to have fun and enjoy some time outside with his best friends. Being with her must be so boring and repetitive… 

But Mike didn’t think that at all. He would have traded any moment with his friends to stay around her for all summer. This is exactly why he told her that he would have come there in the afternoon, just right after the pool day. 

“Ugh. Too hot.” She focuses her sight on the electric fan and snaps her chin up, the blades starting to rotate faster. She presses her finger on her nostril, wiping the usual rivulet of blood coming off her nose. 

As she drowns in her desperation and summer blue, she hears the usual sound of wheels getting nearer and nearer, Mike’s footsteps unmistakable: he had a lanky kind-of-gangly walk, you know, the one of a baby giraffe that was learning how to stand up. 

And he got even taller! She was sure she had to carry with her a ladder if she wanted to kiss him from now on.

“El? It’s Mike...” He calls for her behind the door. His voice sounds off, characteristically irritated. 

El moves her arm, too lazy to get up, almost sure that the sticky fabric of the armchair was getting her butt and back shape. 

“Come in.” As she says it, the doors clack open and reveal…

Her eyes almost pop out of her sockets as her gaze meets his one. 

“Mike? What—what happened—“

He closes the door behind him, slamming his backpack to the ground. He stops her words with a hand, closing his eyes. “I don’t really want to talk about this.”

She stands up immediately, walking to him with both of her hands covering her mouth. “You’re red. You're very red.” 

Oblivious about what happened to him, she pokes his cheek mindlessly, making his face contort in pain. “Ouch! El!” 

“Why do you scream?” she furrows her brows. “Does it hurt?”

He sighs, rubbing his fingers on his face. “Yeah. Let’s just say I forgot to put my dumb sunscreen lotion on my face. And now my face burns like I took a sauna into Hell.”

El pouts her lips, holding his hand between hers. “I am sorry. How can I help you?”

He sighs, the feeling of having her close being the best medication. “It’s fine. I just—have to put my after sunburn lotion on me.” Saying that, he starts to fumble his hand inside the backpack, looking for a lotion his mother gave him. 

God, how stupid of him. How could he forget that he had baby cheeks? This is a reminder that he should never tell El that time that he burnt his buttcheeks, too, when he was five. Damn, that was a whole other story. He couldn’t sit his ass down for four days. 

As she sees him squeeze the lotion, El steps towards him right away. “Can I put it on you?”

“Uh?” He manages to smile despite the burn taking over his facial muscles. Just an expression and his nerves stab him. “It’s not necessary. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Please. I really want to help you.” 

El seems very sure about it, and when she looks at him with those pair of puppy eyes, saying no turns into the most difficult challenge. 

Well... What could go wrong? It’s simple cream. Easy task. Also El had hands of magic, she stroked his face like nobody else ever did. She was gentle in anything she did—besides eating. No, in that she was simply brutal and graceless. 

After a second of contemplation, he gives up by handing her the lotion. “Alright, but please—be delicate. I am burning over here.”

She cups the bottle between her hands. “Delicate. Yes. Got it,” El nods, making him sign to sit on the couch. 

When he does, she kneels down in front of him, squeezing a dollop in the palm of her hand and generously spreads the white cream all over his cheeks, his skin itching for the contact, eyes squeezing shut. 

Her thumbs and fingers start to stroke him and scatter the white cream over his freckles and cheekbones, an awkward smile blooming on her face when she realizes how close they are and how cute it would be to give him a kiss. Mike looks hilarious, sugarcoated, glossy just like Hopper’s doughnuts. 

She buries a laugh as she keeps on with her caresses. “Do you feel any better?” 

Mike exhales in relief, the unease of the burn slowly numbing as he feels her hands fanned over his cheeks and caressing him in smooth, comforting circles. The after sunburn lotion is icy and minty, the ephemeral moment of freshness making his shoulders drop and his limbs getting softer. But what works in making him feel reborn his the feeling of her hands on him. 

He hums, as if he was stuck in a dream made of her. “Yes. It’s nice.”

He opens his eyes in a slow flutter, and their eyes lock in a silent moment. He leans in, hand grazing under her chin as he draws himself close to her. El closes her eyelids, expecting to be kissed, smelling his breath and scent of mint overwhelming her—but all that she feels right after is his nose rubbing against hers, spreading the lotion all over her face and making her leap.

“Mike!” She laughs out loud, his nose tip poking her cheek as he keeps cuddling against her. “Stop—“

“No.” He holds her cheeks, kissing her dimples and nose as she giggles, uncaring of how messy and creamy he looks as the only thing he wants is being with her and making her laugh, seeing her this joyful for the rest of his life. 

He would go on, kissing her like he always did, but the sound of an engine kills off the mood. Recognizing that Hopper has got home earlier from work (God, _why_?), El takes a good step back, trying to brush off the lotion, Mike promptly doing the same. They were getting better at it. 

“Umpf,” Mike groans. “Hopper is a pain in the ass. He keeps interrupting our moments.”

She gives him a disappointed smile, “He is just very... protective.”

His stare hardens. “Yeah, a protective pain in the ass.” His words end in the right moment Hopper steps into the cabin. 

Still in his uniform and hat, he turns himself to them, packs of food under his arm and a cigarette beneath his lips. “Hi, kid—“ His smile drops as he sees his daughter in the usual, constant company of the boy. “And Wheeler, of course. What the hell happened to your face?”

“He sunburned. I was helping him—“ she stretches her hand and commends the lotion to move to her hand. “With this.”

“I see,” Hopper laughs, shuffling lazily to the fridge. “Nature seems to follow a divine pattern, doesn’t it, Wheeler? Karma is really one of my best friends.”

“Shut up, asshole,” he hisses under his breath, just enough for El to hear him and receiving a scolding look by her.

No matter how much they teased him, Hop was still her father, and she didn’t like when Mike insulted him with such big words. 

He rolls his eyes, murmuring to her ear. “Sorry.”

She sketches a smile in return, nodding and accepting his apology. 

“Want some ice with that, kid?” Hopper calls for him. 

Since when the old man is so nice to him?

“Huh? Yeah, thanks.”

He is about to hand him the pack of ice, but not before grabbing his shoulder, cupping it solidly and bowing his head down. A threat escapes his lips. “I noticed your sunburnt lotion on her face. No funny business, especially when I’m not around. Is it clear?”

Mike’s face couldn’t be more pissed off. God, can he leave them alone for once? Why is he always so far up his ass?

He glares at him. “Clear.” 

Hopper pinches his cheek with voluntary force. “Good boy.” 

“OUCH!”

_Fall(in’)_

The cycle comes to an end, finishing where everything has started. During the fall. 

It was on a rainy night of November when Mike met her, and ever since, his life hasn’t been the same. It turned into the most chaotic, exciting, and heartbreaking adventure of his life. 

He can’t stop thinking about the fact that his life revolves around El. That before her, nothing had a meaning. He woke up, he lived, and went to bed, like that, on loop. Then, one night everything changed and he stopped being Michael Wheeler; instead he became Mike, the child who saved her, and the one El could always rely on.

He looks at her, sitting at the table of her newest house (even smaller than the previous one), their respective siblings around them and chatting during the dinner of Thanksgiving 1985. 

El is silent, though. Abnormally quiet, if he has to be honest. She is right next to him, barely touching her dessert or spitting a word. 

During his visit, he asked her about her new school, her new life, and everything seemed quite okay. She seemed happy, especially when they saw each other at the airport. The whole day seemed to be great, the distance easy to overcome when the reward was seeing each other. But then, the night came, and El grew quieter and dark in the face, as if a force was sucking happiness out of her.

The reality that Mike doesn’t even guess is that she wasn’t enthusiastic about her new life and, honestly, why would she be? 

She lost her father just a few months back. Actually, she lost pretty much everything she had in one single night; her only parent, her powers, lots of people she couldn’t protect and that she felt responsible for. 

And now, she had to deal with the feeling of being an outcast in a consolidated family that she managed to ruin with her arrival. El always thought about this, how she blamed herself in creating all of these problems. 

But Mike was there to prove her wrong. There was a thing he always told her: she didn’t ruin anyone’s life and, if anything, she improved it. Nothing of the things that happened in 1983 could be blamed on her. 

El was a victim just anybody else. 

When the first thunder snaps in the sky, Will prompts to stand up the chair. “Shoot, it’s starting to rain. I have to take my bike back inside—“

“No. I will go.” El cut him off, eyes stuck to the ground. 

Mike seems surprised to see her speaking at least. 

“But it’s my bike?” Will raises a skeptical brow. 

“I said I will do it for you.” She doesn’t even give him the possibility to reply that she snaps up the chair, grabs the raincoat from the coat rack and slams the door shut behind her. 

“Is she okay?” Joyce immediately finds Mike’s eyes and he shakes his head, gaze stuck on the door. 

The Hell he will let her stay outside in the dark, and all alone.

Mike drops his spoon and stands up the chair. 

“—Be right back, Mrs. Byers.” He rushes at the door, grabbing his wool coat and a random umbrella, bolting down the little (barely inexistent, to be honest) garden of El’s newest house. 

When the rain starts to pour heavy on him, he opens the umbrella. He looks around, finding Will’s bike still there, abandoned in the grass and untouched, contoured by the water streaming down the wheels and handlebars in a crescendo of raindrops. 

“El?” He shouts. “El!”

He paces around the garden, finding nothing. So he walks down the street, his anxiety building up in his throat the more the times passes by and he can’t find her. He squints his eyes, trying to make out the most from the darkness and the dim light coming from the streetlamps. 

After some minutes, she hears a sniffle. He sees her snuggled in a corner of the desolated road, knees to her chin, hugged to her legs as the waterfall of rain pours on her coat. 

“El!” Mike runs there, immediately kneeling down and covering her with the umbrella. “El, what are you doing here? It’s cold. Come inside—“

“It’s all of my fault.” This is the only thing she manages to say in between her sobs. 

“Fault? What—“

“It’s all of my fault!” She screams this time, showing her face to him at last, eyes red and filled with resentment and rage that she doesn’t know how to show. 

It was easier before. When she had powers, everything was way much simpler. She could channel her anger in that, doing the simplest tasks, protecting herself and the others, finding people... Right now? She can't do any of that. 

What’s her meaning again? She had a gift, at least something that made her special… Right now, she feels like she is just a burden for the whole world. 

“Fault?” 

Believe him, he doesn’t know what is happening, but her sudden breakdown doesn’t surprise him. She has been weird all night and he only blames himself for not having asked her anything sooner. 

_What an idiot, Mike._

“Everything. All of this,” she cries out loud. “Don’t make sense. It is not how it was supposed to be.”

He looks at her, soft frown on his face as he stretches a hand to her face and holds it in his palm, silently giving her all the comfort she needs. 

“I should be with you. In Hawkins. I should be with Hop, but he’s—“ she doesn’t even find the force within her to let it out. “He’s gone. He’s gone, and he w-will never be back. Your best friend had to move. Here. I don’t know where we are. I just know it’s too far away from you.”

She can’t stop the flow of her words, the desperation engulfing her mind. Her current life is a pure, simple mess. Not only people at school were mean to her for no reason at all—especially one girl who threw her in the trash—but she didn’t have any friends to rely on, and telling this to Mike would make her feel even more of a burden. 

Classes were difficult, big words and big numbers she didn’t have any idea to comprehend, and the unfamiliarity with this uncharted territory is making her live in a constant state of anxiety. Her new reality was a roller coaster that was going too fast, but all that El wanted was to find the brakes to stop the ride. 

She almost chokes on her sobs, her voice strangled and barely audible. Heart and soul hurt. “Mike, I want to go back. I want to—I want to go back. I want to go back in time and make sure that none of this happened. A life without me would be better. I should have stayed there. In the—“

Seeing her like this breaks his heart. It pains him to the point that he would do anything to drain the sadness she feels and inject it into himself. 

“Don’t say it. El, stop saying all of this... It’s not true, and you know it.” But none of these words help, and her crying doesn’t stop. 

More than a cry of help, it seems like a cry of exhaustion, and it is drenched with the horrible smell of failure. 

El shakes her head, looking at him as if that was the life they were condemned to live. “It’s my fault. It’s my fault if you suffer. It’s my fault if all of us lost someone we loved! No one wins here. We just… We just lose.”

Hearing that, Mike throws the umbrella away from him and holds both of her wrists, prompting her to get up with him. Something happens within him; he’s not sure what it is, but all the flashbacks come back and they carry all the answers El was looking for. 

“How can I lose when I have you in my life?” Mike looks at her as if the answer isn’t needed. El rubs her hand to her face, wiping away her tears and replacing them with newest ones. 

“I remember when I met you,” he starts, lips trembling as he doesn't have a clue about what is happening to him or where all these words come from. 

The only certainty he has is that he loves her and this is not about to change. It’s everlasting, like the sun setting in the west or the Polaris being the coordinate to the north. 

“I saw you there, in the dark, alone, and I didn’t even know who you were. The only thing I knew is that you needed someone. And I was willing to be that someone.” 

The rain slips over Mike, refreshing and purifying him for all the sadness he has carried with him since he saw her going away again. He cups her cheeks, reflecting his eyes in hers, and he can see everything. A future. A promise of being there for each other. A bond he will never break. 

The only person he will ever love. 

“El, I can’t do words. I can’t do romance. I am not a romantic—I am not any of that. But I know what I am with you. I am complete. I am happy. I am accepted. I am loved.” His words are loud, overlapping with the sound of the thunders and the cascade of rain pouring on them.

El is struck, her tears there and mixing with the water rain. She is surprised seeing him wiping them away with his thumbs. He knows her so well this should scare him. Mike is terrified of being this in love with her, because he knows that he wouldn’t know what to do if she wasn’t there anymore. 

“You are a special person. Strong. You can face this new situation we all are living in. You didn’t ruin anything. You brought so, _so_ much happiness to me, to Hopper... He loved you and he still does, wherever he is. Your mom? She loved you. All of our friends and the people you left in Hawkins? They love you, too. Joyce, Jonathan and Will? They love you so much they decided to make you be part of their family.”

“And about me?” He questions, this time smiling at her like he never did before. 

“I love you like nobody else ever will.” With a delicate touch, he brings her wrist to his lips, just where her tattoo is. She will always be more than the number inked on her. 

“I love you. I am crazy for you. I will always fall for you. Just like I fell in love with you two years ago, I’d do that again. Again,” Mike kisses her cheek. “Again.” He kisses her other cheek. “And again...” He kisses her chin, leaning into her mouth at last.

El closes her eyes, stopping her tears when his lips meet hers in a kiss that seals his words and their promise to be for each other. His mouth moves like a flutter of butterfly wings against hers, hands running to her cheeks as he presses all that he feels for her as the rain doesn’t seem to stop. 

Mike feels her body softening at last, the tremors in her face vanishing as his lips work magic on her, the flat of her hands caressing his chest as they love each other like that, without any pretense or double meaning. El was meant to be in his life, just like he was meant to be in hers.

Because no matter how the seasons change, and the cycle of life repeats itself; no matter how life gets painful or unbearable; no matter the unbearable distance between them. Mike and El will never stop being there for each other.


End file.
